


Of My Days In the Sun

by turps



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, picfor1000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 23:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the picfor1000 challenge at Live Journal.</p><p>A follow on to <a href="http://turps.dreamwidth.org/1030938.html#cutid4">this</a> AU ficlet where Mikey is poisoned and loses his memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of My Days In the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to themoononastick for the excellent beta.
> 
> My picture prompt was [this](http://www.flickr.com/photos/26907150@N08/8233457413/lightbox/)

“Do you remember…”

It’s something Gerard asks Mikey often -- do you remember when we first got the bees? Do you remember putting salve on my stings? Do you remember how we eventually ate honey?

Do you remember…

Do you remember…

Do you remember…

The only thing Gerard doesn’t ask is: do you remember me?

He can’t. Hearing the reply once was enough.

Mikey’s hand remains darkened, his arm crisscrossed with tendrils of black, but the balm Ray researched and then mixed has kept the poison from spreading.

Mikey’s functional now. He can walk and talk and interact with the world.

He’s alive – alive and breathing and going to stay that way – but he’s not Mikey.

At least, not the Mikey that Gerard loves with all of his heart.

Gerard’s Mikey laughs often and is the other half of hundreds of in-jokes. He shares his coffee with Gerard with a sleepy smile and roll of his eyes. He lies next to Gerard in the still of the night, deeply asleep as Gerard matches their breaths until they could be one person.

Gerard’s Mikey is gone -- and he misses him.

Desperately.

In a way that makes Gerard’s heart break.

~*~

When Gerard wakes, the others are long gone.

They’ve left their mark in the kitchen. Mugs on the table and the bread with its paper covering slightly pulled off to one side.

Sleep soggy, Gerard yawns and checks the metal jug that’s on the shelf next to the fire, relieved when he sees it’s nearly half-full. Cloth wrapped around his hand, he pours out some coffee, filling a mug to the top.

Before.

Before the poison.

Before when Gerard was happy, he’d pour out two mugs. He’d go upstairs to wake Mikey, head bowed in deference to the sloped ceiling as he took a moment to just look. At Mikey sleeping so peacefully, body relaxed and arms flung out to the side.

Unlike now when Mikey sleeps curled up tight. Head tucked down to his chest and knees drawn up, restless even when the nightmares finally leave him.

Gerard doesn’t pour two coffees now. He doesn’t go upstairs.

Now he drinks alone. The stewed coffee providing a heat that does nothing to displace the chill Gerard feels always.

“Hello.”

Gerard looks up, and every morning– every single morning when he first sees Mikey – he hopes that something has changed. That there’s some glimmer of recognition, some spark to show that Mikey’s memories are starting to return.

But there never is. Despite all of Ray’s efforts, the balm has stopped working – a cure half completed at best.

Gerard sees that again this morning. Mikey’s expression blank, the shadows under his eyes like bruises. How he keeps at arm’s length away from Gerard.

“There’s bread,” Gerard says and puts down his mug, pulling back the paper that covers the bread. “I can cut you a slice.”

Mikey stills, his brow creased as he asks, “Do I like bread?”

“Yeah you do.” Gerard goes for the knife in the drawer as he keeps talking. “You like it fresh from the oven, you like the kind Frank makes, the kind with the seeds, but you don’t like his raisin bread because it looks like it’s made with tiny black beetles.” 

“Oh,” Mikey says, and then, quieter. “Do I know Frank?”

“He’s one of your best friends.” The words catch in Gerard’s throat as he saws at the bread and hands over a slice. “I need. I need to go and get water.”

The knife clatters against the table as Gerard heads for the door, needing some space. Outside the sun is shining, the nearby stream a ribbon of shimmering light. Blindly, Gerard follows a well-worn path, grass brushing his legs as he walks.

All Gerard wants is a sign. That somewhere, Gerard’s Mikey remains -- and that’s enough to make Gerard feel guilty. 

It’s Gerard’s job to look after Mikey, and he can’t fix this. No matter how hard that he tries, how much that he loves him, Mikey’s lost, and all Gerard can do is be there, be Mikey’s light to find his way home.

“I’m sorry.”

Unsurprised that Mikey has followed, Gerard looks over his shoulder, seeing Mikey walk through the grass. Out here he looks worse than inside, a two-dimensional caricature of himself that’s washed out and faded.

“I brought you some bread.” Mikey holds out his hand, the bread shockingly white against the poisoned dark of his skin. “You looked upset.”

“I’m okay.” Gerard stops walking, feet close to the bank of the stream, and what he should do is pretend, say yet again that everything is fine. But he can’t. Gerard’s lost and alone and most of all misses Mikey, even though he’s standing right there. “No. I’m not.”

“I’m sorry,” Mikey says again, dropping the bread before clenching his hand. “I’m trying to remember.”

“I know,” Gerard says, and repeats, “I know,” before stepping toward Mikey and pulling him in for a hug. It’s something they haven’t done for a while, intimate touches replaced by caring for Mikey while he was sick, and then later, Mikey keeping a distance as he faced down a world full of strangers and fears. “I miss you.”

“I miss me.” Tense at first, Mikey lets out a deep breath and relaxes against Gerard. “Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t.” That’s something Gerard can promise, that no matter what happens, he’ll never leave Mikey. “I never will. I love you.”

Mikey remains still, his head against Gerard’s, and then says, “Do I love you?” Gerard opens his mouth to reply, to explain how they’ve loved each other always, but then stops when Mikey keeps talking. “No, it’s okay, you don’t need to answer.”

Gerard waits a moment and then says, “What if I want to?”

“You don’t have to.” Mikey pulls back and stares at Gerard. “I already know the answer.”

Hope flairs, tiny but there as Gerard says, “Mikey?”

All Mikey says in response is, “Gee.”


End file.
